Monday, January 19, 2009

Mikhail Vrubel is generally considered the greatest of the Russian Symbolist painters. The departure from realistic naturalism in russian painting that had begun with Mikhail Nesterov's enigmatic painting The Visitation realized it's full expression in the work of Vrubel. His unique style and great talent are evident in this fantastic self portrait in pencil from 1904-1905.

In 1890, Vrubel painted a series of black and white watercolour illustrations for Mikhail Lermontov's romantic poem The Demon. Later that year Vrubel exhibited a large oil painting called The Seated Demon in Moscow. The painting caused a great deal of controversy. At first the work was condemned by conservative critics. Some even called it ugly. But later art patron Savva Mamontov praised Vrubel's genius and commissioned him do some paintings for his private opera house. The scandal made Vrubel famous.

I have posted The Seated Demon and the watercolour illustrations here with some excerpts from Mikhail Lermontov's The Demon.

The Seated Demon 1890

His way above the sinful earthThe melancholy Demon wingedAnd memories of happier daysAbout his exiled spirit thronged;Of days when in the halls of lightHe shone among the angels bright;When comets in their headlong flightWould joy to pay respect to himAs, chaste among the cherubim,Among th' eternal nebulaeWith eager mind and quick surmiseHe'd trace their caravanseraiThrough the far spaces of the skies;When he had known both faith and love,The happy firstling of creation!When neither doubt nor dark damnationHad whelmed him with the bitternessOf fruitless exile year by year,And when so much, so much...but thisWas more than memory could bear.

Head of Demon 1890-91

Outcast long since, he wandered lone,Having no place to call his own,Through the dull desert of the worldWhile age on age about him swirled,Minute on minute - all the same.Prince of this world - which he held cheap -He scattered tares among the wheat....A joyless task without remission,Void of excitement, opposition -Evil itself to him seemed tame.

Tamara Dancing 1890-91

So by the midnight star I swearBy blazing East and beaming WestNo Shah of Persia knew her peerNo King on earth was ever blessedTo kiss an eye so full and fine.The harem's sparkling fountain neverShowered such a form with dewy pearls!Nor had mortal fingers everCaressed a forehead so divineTo loose such splendid curls;Indeed, since Eve was first undoneAnd man from Eden forth must fareNo beauty such as this, I swear,Had bloomed beneath the Southern sun.

The Demon did see.... For one secondIt seemed to him that heaven beckonedTo make his arid soul resoundWith glorious, grace-bestowing sound -And once again his thought embracedThe sacrosanct significanceOf Goodness, Beauty and of Love!And, strangely moved, his memory tracedThe joys that he had known aboveA chain of long magnificenceBefore him link on link unfoldingAs though he watched the headlong flightOf star on star shoot through the night....

The Rider 1890-91

Swift as a stag still runs the horseSnorting as though he held his courseIn some fierce charge, now plunging onNow pulling up as though to harkenHis nostrils flared to sniff the wind:Then leaps up and comes ringing downOn all four hooves, sets sparkingThe stones and, in his mad career,His tangled mane streams out behind.A silent rider he does bearWho lurches forward now and thenTo rest his head in that wild mane.The reins lie slack in useless hands,The feet are deep-thrust in the stirrups,And on his saddle-cloth the bandsOf blood are broadening as they gallopAh gallant steed, your wounded masterYou bore from battle swift as lightThe ill-starred bullet sped yet fasterAnd overtook him in the night!

Tamara and Demon 1890-91

I am he to whom you barkenedIn the stillness of the night,He whose thought your mind has darkened,He whose sadness you have felt,Whose image haunts your waking sight,Whose name the end of hope has speltTo every soul with whom I treat.I am he no man may love,A scourge to all my mortal slaves,The ill in nature. EnemyTo Heaven and all the powers above.Lord of knowledge, liberty.And, as you see, I'm at your feet.Moved beyond all that I have knownI would speak softly in your earsQuiet prayers of love. Tell of my pain,My first on earth, and my first tears.Ah hear me out, for pity's sake!One word from you would quite restore me.Robed in the love of your pure heartI might again resume my partIn the angelic ranks and takeAn aspect new and a new glory.Ah, hear me, hear me I implore you,I am your slave and I adore you!No sooner did I see you thanI felt a sudden, veiled revulsionFor immortality and power;And I was drawn by strange compulsionTo envy the frail joys of man;Life without you became a tormentTo be apart from you - a horror.A living ray of warmth, a portentOf fair renewal touched my heartAnd set the cold blood coursing. SorrowBeneath the scar stirred like a serpentAwakening an ancient pain.For, tell me, without you what gainIs there in my infinity?Endless dominion, majesty?Loud, empty words - a spacious faneDevoid of all divinity!

Tamara Lying in State 1890-91

My life is wondrous full and new,The crown of thorns I proudly castWith my own hands from off my brow.All that I have been shattered lies:My heaven and hell are in your eyes.I love you with a passion vast.You cannot love as I love you,With all the ecstasy and powerOf deathless thought and dreams sublime.Since the beginning of all timeYour image on the eternal airHas gone before me - till this hour.My soul has long been troubled byThe sweet sounds of the name you bear;And in my days of blessednessYou were my only lack.

And most gently heDid touch his burning lips to hers;Full of seduction were the wordsIn which he soothed her soft repining;His mighty gaze held fast her eyesAnd burnt her.- In the cloistered shadeHe glinted poised above her, shining.Inevitable as a blade.The evil spirit overcomes her.His kiss, like deadly poison, numbs herAnd stills the heart within her breast.One terrified and anguished cryAroused the silent night from rest.It was a last, a desperate pleaYet full of love, live agony,Hopeless farewell, finality...To her young life a last good-bye.

Demon and Angel with Tamara's Soul 1890-91

Circled by the strong arms which bore her,Tamara's sinful soul shrank closeTo the protecting angel's sideSeeking in prayer her fear to hide.Now, once again, he stood before herBut - Heavens! Who would know him now?His gaze so brooding and moroseSo venomous with hate eternal...It seemed a death-like cold infernalLay on that frozen face and brow."Spirit of darkness, get thee gone!"Heaven's messenger then made reply:"The victory has been yours for longEnough, and now the end is nigh.Just is the judgement of the Lord!The days of trial are over, past:With the frail flesh, know. she has castOff all the claims of evil too!For long now we have waited for her:Her soul was of those very fewWho at the price of martyr's painEndured one moment long attainTo tasting joy beyond compare.The Maker spun its living threadOut of the finest, purest airNot for the dull world was she madeNo more that it was made for her.She has redeemed at cruel priceHer wavering faith in powers above.She suffered, loved, laid down her life -And Heaven opened to her love!"

The angel bent his gaze severeUpon the Tempter, eye to eye,Then joyful soared ... to disappearInto the boundless, shining sky.The Demon watched the heating wingsFading triumphantly from sightAnd cursed his dreams of better things,Doomed to defeat, venting his spiteAnd arrogance in that great curse....Alone in all the universe,Abandoned, without love or hope!...

Like Lermontov's Demon, Vrubel had his Tamara as well. In 1896, he fell in love with the famous opera singer Nadezhda Zabela and they were married. She sang the parts of the Snowbird, the Swan Princess, and the Princess Volkhova in Rimsky-Korsakov's opera's. Vrubel designed stage sets and beautiful costumes for her. She was his fairy tale princess. He painted this beautiful portrait of her as the Swan Princess during this happy period.

Swan Princess 1900

Sadly, Vrubel's fate would be as tragic as that of Lermontov's Demon. In 1901, he suffered a nervous breakdown at an exhibition of the painting Demon Downcast, and was taken to a mental clinic where he was hospitalized. His mental illness was caused in part by syphilis. Eventually he became completely blind due to the disease.

Demon Downcast 1902

Vrubel continued to create some of his greatest work for a few years, until his vision loss and mental illness became too severe. This incredible painting called The Perl is one of his later works.

The Perl 1904

From the same period, this simple still life of a fresh cut rose in a glass of water is a wonderful example of the genius of Vrubel's unique technique and style.

The Rose 1904

This is another portrait of Nadezhda Zebela-Vrubel from this later period.

Portrait of Nadezhda Zabela-Vrubel 1904

This unfinished portrait of the poet and novelist Valery Briusov, a close friend of Vrubel's, is the last large work he attempted before he gave up painting in 1906 due to his increasing loss of vision and mental illness. He died four years later.